Crumbling walls
Turned slick with rain,
Tears from the sky leak through the open window.
And drop on the pages of the Oxford dictionary
That you hold in your hand
As you gag down the bitter taste of poorly made coffee.
Handpicked, sent from a thousand miles away,
Only to be hastily dumped in a porcelain cup,
Stirred with lukewarm water, and sipped throughout the night.
The taste an eternal reminder of the bittersweet despair
That comes with excellence, and never leaves.
Even when your life has wasted away
And all that is left of you is your shadow.
You smile, simply because there is nothing else to do
And when you look up, you see Time.
All the time you had taken and lost
Is standing in front of you.
Tired of waiting, tired of standing still,
It holds out its hand.
You take it, leaving the coffee
And the dictionary.
You leave everything in that old mansion
That you never quite considered a home.
You leave it to be found and observed by historians
In a hundred years.
Because Time is cruel, but it is also forgiving
And never leaves anything or anyone behind.
This time, your smile is genuine
As you let go of everything
And allow yourself to be hollow, to be free.
To stop searching for forever,
And let yourself fall-
Never to be seen
again.
